


Over Our Heads

by Titti



Series: A New Purpose [2]
Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:22:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28795317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titti/pseuds/Titti
Summary: Returning to Oz leaves Miguel and Ryan searching for something.  When it looks hopeless, they find that something in each other.
Relationships: Miguel Alvarez/Ryan O'Reily
Series: A New Purpose [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2168571
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8
Collections: Oz Magi





	Over Our Heads

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gaialux](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaialux/gifts).



> Prompt: Wish #01 - "Guess we both know we're in over our heads / We got nowhere to go and no home that's left / The water is rising on a river turning red / It all might be OK or we might be dead / If everything we've got is slipping away / I meant what I said when I said until my dying day / I'm holding on to you, holding onto me / Maybe it's all gone black but you're all I see / You're all I see" -- All I Need, Mat Kearney
> 
> Notes: This song was written for a couple living through Hurricane Katrina and when I read the lyrics, I knew that this would fit them so well. So my Dear Recipient, I hope this is what you were looking for in a story. Merry Christmas!

The snow fell down heavily, covering the roads with a white blanket that made the driving difficult. The heavy downfall rendered visibility nonexistent. There were no lights on the backroads that led to Oz. The driver, Joe, cursed under his breath. Whoever thought that they should move the inmates back in a fucking snowstorm was an idiot who needed to die a painful death as far as he was concerned.

"How far, Joe?" asked the guard.

"About two miles and a half, but it might as well be an eternity," Joe answered.

"Fucking Ward, moving them today." The guard kept his eyes on the prisoners. Three homeboys, two Aryans, a Mick and a Spick. It was the start of fucking joke. They were coming from Sing Sing and going to Em City, McManus' special project, but as far as the guard was concerned, they were all animals who deserved to be in cages, certainly not important enough for him to know their names.

He was mentally going through his duties for the next few hours that he didn't see the deer come out of nowhere. Joe pressed the brakes, making the bus skid over the icy road, spinning like a dreidel, before flipping to the side, tumbling down the side of the road until the world went black.

***

Ryan opened his eyes slowly, but didn't move. He knew it was bad. They were outnumbered with the Homeboys and the Aryans. He hadn't survived Sing Sing to die on a fucking yellow bus. Miguel, who had been sitting across the aisle from him, had been thrown upside down when the bus flipped over, his feet were still chained to the seat. Ryan brought a finger to Miguel's mouth, mouthing 'Don't move'. He hoped that Miguel would understand.

The men upfront were moving. Someone had gotten free. Ryan risked raising his head to see over the back rest of the seat in front of him, but before he could, he heard the two gun shots and then yelling and moving. He stayed where he was, thankful that he'd chosen to seat at the back of the bus, because those fuckers didn't even remember him. Instead they stepped out of the bus. Only when the voices got far enough he started to play with the chains.

"You'll never manage like that. They tossed the keys. I can see them. Stretched your hand under the seat," Miguel said. "A little to the right, be careful or you'll push them away. Just a little more… there."

This would be much easier if they weren't chained to their seat on a bus that was resting on its side. Finally, he felt the keys and grabbed them. "I can't do mine, but I can open your handcuffs. Here, done, you can do mine, and then I'll do your feet. You look ridiculous upside down."

Miguel snorted. "Training for the Olympics. Gold medal in gymnastic."

Ryan rolled his eyes. "Less talking, more opening shackle. You need to move. If those fuckers remember that we're here, they might come back to kill us." Neither side would like a member of El Norte and everyone hated Ryan. "What wrong with you? Can't find a hole after spending time with Torquemada?"

Miguel shook his head. "I banged my head. Everything is a little fuzzy."

Ryan knew from the lack of insults that it was probably a lot worse than Miguel was saying, but finally he was free. He was careful in releasing Miguel's feet, to avoid letting him drop on his head. When he was done, he went to the front of the bus. He checked the guard and the driver. The holes in their heads left no doubt about the fact that they were dead.

"What are you doing? Stealing from the dead?" Miguel asked.

"As if you'd care. Checking if they have a phone, and here we go." He turned on the cell, but it was clear that there was no signal in the middle of nowhere. "The radio is busted. Here, put this jacket on," he said, taking off the dead men's jackets and handing one to Miguel. They were saying that we're about two miles and a half from the jail." Thank God that he had this need to listen to everything, never knowing when information might come useful.

"And you want to go the other way to escape" Miguel reasoned.

"Don’t be an idiot. We're in the middle of a snow storm. We've seen no cars. There are very few homes. Either way, if we try to kidnap someone, the feds get involved and we fry. The chances of us escaping in this weather and surviving are zero. We have no way to go, but Oz," Ryan reasoned. Sure, his own first instinct had been to run away, but he hadn't survived by listening to his gut and ignoring reason. He thought about the next step and the one after that, staying ahead of the rest. "We'll walk there and tell them what happened. Well, we might leave out details on who killed these two. We were unconscious. Come on, we need to start walking or we'll freeze."

Miguel put the second jacket on, before leaning down to grab the gloves. He closed his eyes. "I don't feel so good. Maybe I should sit for a while."

"Only if you want to die. No way we'll survive the night in this bus. Half the windows are broken, no door, it'll get too cold. Although, smart idea with the gloves." Other people might feel strange about taking clothes from two dead men, but you didn't survive prison by being squeamish. After the gloves, he grabbed the hats and scarves as well, then the flashlight. "Come on." He grabbed the driver side's window and pulled himself up. He must have gone on adrenaline because only then he felt the stabbing pain on his ribs, but he didn't say anything, used to hiding his weaknesses.

When they were finally out, Ryan took a look. There wasn't much to see. No sounds of cars. He could see footsteps going in two different directions, both away from the prison. "Aryans and Homeboys split up."

"They can all rot," Miguel murmured. "O'Reily, I'm not sure I can do that."

"We're doing this." He put an arm around Miguel. "One foot in front of the other."

"How'd you manage to get out of this with no injuries?" Miguel asked after walking for a few minutes.

"Luck of the Irish, I guess." That and his stubbornness. He probably had a fractured rib and his ankle hurt like a fucker, but he knew that stopping would mean certain death. Walking without Miguel hanging onto him would have been easier, but the man looked ready to collapse.

They made their way silently, their scarves pulled all around them, but even with a hat, a hood and a scarf, the snow and wind seemed to cut their skin. The temperature was dropping and the snow felt more like ice. The clouds covered the moon and the stars and the flashlight was the only thing that kept them on the road.

They had been walking for half an hour when Miguel broke the silence. "What happens when we get back?" 

"We go to the infirmary, get warm, get some sleep," Ryan said, avoiding the real question.

"That's not what I mean. Me and you. Sing Sing was temporary, different rules. Right? That's what you said," Miguel answered.

Ryan turned his head to look at the other man, although with the heavy snowfall, it was hard to do. "I don't know what you want to know, Alvarez, but right now, I'm more worried about getting to Oz. Thirty minutes and we have done a mile, if that. You're ready to fall over and I-"

Miguel stopped and straightened up a little. "You what? Fuck, O'Reily, what's wrong with you?"

Ryan shrugged, before wincing at the pain. "Ribs and ankle, but it doesn't matter, because we gonna make it."

"Or we gonna die," Miguel muttered.

Ryan grabbed Miguel's shoulders. "We will make it. Me and you. I told you, we're stuck together until we die, and that isn't happening for a long time. I haven't been stuck in a fucking jail for this long only to die when we start fucking."

Miguel nodded. "Fine, but we need to walk or I'll fall asleep standing up." They moved forward, pushing against the wind, but the silence didn't last long. "So that's all we are? A fuck?"

Ryan kept walking, ignoring the question even though he knew that eventually he'd have to give an answer. It couldn't be a straight answer; that went against everything he believed in. "We're in a snow storm, at least another mile and a half out, with injuries that could kill us, completely over our head, with no place to go but a jail, we could be ok or we might die, I told you me and you are stuck together until we die and I'll do anything in my power to keep us alive."

Miguel smiled behind his scarf and hooked his arm with Ryan has they fought against the elements to keep going. "I love you, too."

Ryan almost denied saying that, but the truth was that he'd said exactly that with a lot more words, in ways that he could deny it. He found that he didn't want to deny it, not when they _could_ die. "Keep walking."

"Trying. Head really hurts," Miguel said.

"Ribs really hurt; I'm still moving. I won't let snow kill me. Or you."

The road ahead was dark, over a mile that felt like an eternity. Walking together, side by side, helping each other when one couldn't go on anymore. Step after step, leaving behind imprints that were soon filled by more snow, erasing their presence all together. The wind grew louder. Slowly hope began to fade until-

"Is that-?"

"Oz? Yes, it is," Ryan said with a grin. "We're almost home."

Step, after step, they got closer until they reached the guards parking lot. Ryan stopped once more. "There's something I want to do while we're free men."

"What's that?" Miguel asked.

Ryan pushed down his scarf and then Miguel's. He slowly moved closer and kissed the other man. Their lips were cold and chopped, but it barely mattered. They did this as free men, with no one watching them, no fear of being found out. Ryan pressed their foreheads together, not willing to let go just yet. "We do what we need to survive but we do it together." 

Miguel nodded. 

Together they walked through those gates and entered Oz. Together, they would spend the rest of their lives.


End file.
